A Father's Love
by smithcrafter
Summary: FAM ZORRO. When Alejandro, Victoria, and Diego are held prisoner and Diego is badly injured, Alejandro finds himself reflecting on his relationship with his son, and realizing some surprising things about Diego. Rated for violence and mild Spanish curses.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Diego! Son, don't try to move. Just lie still." Alejandro's voice was rough, worried. He glanced over and caught Victoria's eye, frowning. Diego had been unconscious for several hours, and it was all so senseless.

The three of them had been headed toward Santa Barbara and the mission vineyards there. Padre Benitez had asked them to advise the friars there on how to improve their winery. Don Alejandro had been experimenting with vineyards and wine making for several years, and Diego had come home from Spain with several new ideas for choosing varieties of grapes, the best soil types, etc., and the latest winemaking methods being used in Europe. In fact, he had even made a trip back to Europe a couple of years ago, just to visit some of the vineyards and wineries in France. Victoria, as the owner of the only tavern in Los Angeles, knew what types of wines were most likely to be acceptable to the inhabitants of the Spanish colonies of Alta California. When Diego had invited her to come with them, she jumped at the chance for a day away from the tavern. Besides, it had been quite a while since she had spent an entire day with her best friend.

They had been riding along at a slow canter, enjoying the lovely spring morning, when suddenly a shot rang out from the rocks ahead of them, and they were surrounded by a band of armed men with weapons pointed at them. Victoria screamed. Alejandro looked sideways toward Diego and was horrified to see his son lying on the ground unconscious, blood soaking his shirt front from a wound in his left shoulder.

"Just sit quietly on your horses, Senor y Senorita," ordered the leader of the bandits. "Remove your hand from your sword, Senor de la Vega, or Senorita Escalante will be the next one to receive a bullet from my gun. Don't worry. Your son isn't dead. I prefer to keep him alive…at least for now."

"Jose Ramiro!" Don Alejandro spoke tightly, as one of Ramiro's men relieved him of his saber and tied his hands together with a short length of rope. Another did the same to Victoria. Two more of the men picked Diego up from the ground, lifted him into his saddle, and tied his hands to the saddle horn. Diego moaned a couple of times as they manhandled him, but didn't regain consciousness.

Alejandro felt a shiver of dread run down his spine. Six years earlier, Ramiro and his men had terrorized the area around Los Angeles for months. Although Jose Ramiro had never been caught, Don Alejandro and his vaqueros had been instrumental in running the banditos out of the territory.

"You are wondering why I am here, no? I promised you I would one day return, Senor. You owe me, and I always collect what I am owed…with interest. I have looked forward to spending some time with you again, on my own terms this time. And I also have a little more official business to take care of. You see, I plan to capture Zorro, and I think either Senorita Escalante or you know who he is behind that mask.

"Senorita Escalante here is well known as the woman of El Zorro. You, sir, have been very outspoken in your approval of Zorro's actions and in your dislike of the present alcalde's rule of Los Angeles. Senor Zorro has intervened in your behalf on a number of occasions. I am certain one or both of you know his identity.

"As for shooting your son…that was simply a safety precaution on my part. I wanted one of you out of commission, and Don Diego was the most logical target. I would prefer not to injure a woman. You are an old man, and any physical injury to you would be likely to incapacitate you to the point you couldn't tell me what you know about Zorro's identity behind his mask. Don Diego, on the other hand, is young and healthy. He may not be much of a fighter, but he would still be the one most likely to cause me trouble as a captive. By weakening him at the very beginning of your captivity, I can eliminate the danger of him trying to escape and go for help, or having a sudden attack of bravery and trying to overpower my men.

And with him injured, the two of you won't be as anxious to try and escape, either. If you do, and leave him behind, know that the first thing I will do, even before I send my men after you, will be to kill him. If you try to escape and take him with you, he'll slow you down enough I'll have no trouble catching up with you. And when I do catch you, I'll still kill him the very first thing."

"You're crazy!" Victoria's voice broke into Ramiro's monologue. "Diego is no danger to you. He's a gentle man, a poet, not a fighter. And we can't tell you what we don't know! I would give _anything_ if I _did _knowwho Zorro really is, but I don't. I'm sure Don Alejandro doesn't either. Zorro has always made a point of keeping his identity a secret. He says it's for our protection as well as his."

"I do hope you're lying to me, Senorita, or at least mistaken about what Senor de la Vega may or may not know. If you're not, your "gentle friend" here is going to find his day getting much rougher that it is right now."

Don Alejandro and Victoria exchanged glances, and both looked desperately toward Diego, still slumped unconscious, with the ropes tying his wrists to the saddle horn the only things keeping him from falling off the horse. Alejandro's lips were closed in a tight, angry line, and his eyes were suspiciously bright as he watched the patch of blood on his son's shoulder continue to grow alarmingly as they rode along, with the outlaws leading the horses they were on. Tears were streaming down Victoria's face as she heard Diego moan softly when the horses were goaded into a canter again.

By the time they had reached the isolated cabin that served as the Ramiro gang's hideout, Diego was semi-conscious, but not really aware of what was going on around him. When he was pulled off his horse, his legs gave out and he would have fallen if he wasn't being held by two of the outlaws. Victoria and Alejandro were herded into the cabin and tied to chairs in the middle of the room. Two of Ramiro's men stood guard on either side of them. Diego was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor in front of them. He tried to raise himself up onto his good arm, but made it only a few inches off the floor before his arm gave out and he fell back. He let out an agonized scream when Ramiro unexpectedly kicked him hard in the side, rolling him onto his back. Alejandro blanched as he _heard_ his son's ribs break.

Ramiro barked instructions to his men. One of them left the cabin, returning shortly with a bucket of water, which he proceeded to dump over Diego's head. Ramiro knelt beside Diego and began slapping his face, trying to bring him back to consciousness. Diego moaned again, his head rolling from side to side for a couple of minutes. Finally, his eyes blinked open and slowly focused on Ramiro's face. As he gradually became more aware of his surroundings, Alejandro saw the beginnings of panic replace the confusion and pain in his son's eyes.

Then Diego managed to turn his head enough to see Alejandro and Victoria. Even in these circumstances, Alejandro couldn't help but be a bit surprised when he saw the panic leave Diego's eyes almost immediately as he realized his father and Victoria were there. He watched the panic change first to relief, then to dismay as Diego realized they were prisoners and tied up; but then he saw the dismay replaced by a sudden anger and determination that he'd never before seen his son exhibit. Yet again, Diego's expression changed. By the time his eyes focused on the bandit above him, they were again full of pain, fear, and confusion. The changes had all occurred so quickly that Alejandro found himself wondering if he'd actually seen what he'd thought he saw.

"Who…who are you, Senor? Why are you doing this to us?" Diego's voice was weak, and obviously terrified. As anxious as he was for his son, he couldn't help but be embarrassed that Diego would allow himself to show so much fear.

"My name is Jose Ramiro. Your father knows me. Several years ago, while you were in Spain, my men and I raided your hacienda. The raid, unfortunately, was a failure. During the battle, your father shot and killed my brother. The rest of us escaped, but I told your father then that someday I would return.

"A few months ago, your alcalde and I ran into each other in San Francisco. We got to talking. He is extremely anxious to get rid of this vigilante, Zorro, and is certain that either your father or the young lady knows Zorro's true identity. He is quite willing to reward _anyone_ who can assist him in this, uh, shall we say, vermin extermination. When I realized that your family was involved, and that the alcalde wouldn't be all that upset if something also happened to rid him of the de la Vega influence in the pueblo, I simply couldn't resist the opportunity to volunteer for the job.

"De Soto filled me in with everything he could tell me about Zorro. He also told me everything he knew about you, your father, and the senorita." Ramiro snickered. "You must be such a disappointment to Don Alejandro, senor. But, you are still his only son. You and the senorita have also been close friends since childhood, I believe. So you will have your uses to me."

Ramiro turned to a couple of his men. "Throw a rope over that rafter and tie young Senor de la Vega's hands to it. I want him on his feet.

Diego gasped in pain as the men pulled him roughly up. He tried to fight against them, but there was no strength in his struggles. They tossed a lariat over the exposed rafter, and then tied the end of the rope around the original ropes that were still binding Diego's wrists together. They pulled the lariat taut, until Diego was more or less standing with his arms stretched above him. By the time they were finished, he was again only semi-conscious.

It was obvious to Victoria and Alejandro that Diego was actually dangling from the restraints more than he was standing on his own two feet. The entire front of his shirt was by now blood-soaked, and there was more blood on the floor where he had been lying. The wound in his shoulder wasn't bleeding as badly as it had been at first, but Diego needed care. If he didn't get it soon, he would bleed to death right in front of them. They had both watched, horrified, as Diego was strung up. When they looked at each other, there were tears in both of their eyes. Alejandro's face was by now almost as pale as his son's. He had a horrible suspicion that he knew what was coming next. Unfortunately, he was right.

For the next half hour, Victoria and Alejandro were interrogated about Zorro's identity, while Diego's blood continued to drip onto the floor in an ever-growing puddle. Over and over, both Victoria and Don Alejandro repeated that they had no idea who Zorro was.

Ramiro was becoming more irritable as the interrogation proceeded. Several times, when he was especially displeased with their replies to his questions, he turned and slammed Diego with the stock of his musket. The first couple of times this happened, though it was obvious the pain had to be excruciating, and sweat broke out on his forehead, not a sound passed Diego's gritted teeth.

The third time, Ramiro paused his interrogation, and just watched Alejandro for a moment. Then, very deliberately, he turned and rammed his fist into the most vulnerable portion of Diego's anatomy. No man could have withstood the excruciating pain of that attack in silence. The strangled cry that came from his son's mouth left Alejandro struggling against his own bonds, and cursing Ramiro with phrases he hadn't even heard since his days in the Spanish army. Diego's scream of pain seemed to last forever before it finally weakened to a moan. His legs were instinctively pulled up almost into a fetal position, leaving his entire weight dangling from the ropes around his wrists, before he went limp; but the soft moaning continued for a long time. The moans were repeated all too regularly throughout the next few minutes of questioning, but finally they stopped. For the last ten minutes of Alejandro and Victoria's "interrogation", Diego was totally unresponsive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Jose Ramiro was disgusted. He had been certain that old de la Vega would give in and tell him what he knew about Zorro in order to stop the torture of his milksop of a son, even if the senorita couldn't bring herself to give up the identity of her lover to save the life of her friend. But neither of them had given him _anything_ that would bring him closer to trapping El Zorro. Both Don Alejandro and Victoria had agreed that they thought Zorro was probably a caballero who lived in or near the pueblo of Los Angeles (even the alcalde had figured out _that_ much), but both continued to swear that they _didn't_ know who he really was. Ramiro was beginning to believe them.

He looked up at Don Diego's face and frowned. He was still alive, but Ramiro wasn't any too sure how much longer he was going to stay that way. He was surprised, though. The young don wasn't quite the weakling he had been led to expect. After de Soto's amused, condescending description of young de la Vega, he'd _expected_ the man to be begging his father and the girl to tell anything they knew, even before they got him strung up. Ramiro called a couple of his men to him, and waved toward Diego.

"Cut him down. Toss him in the lean-to. Untie the other two and throw them in with him. Give them a bucket of water and some rags, and let them clean him up. It's a cinch he's not going anywhere under his own power, and I don't think they'll try to escape without him. They already know what I'll do to him if they try that. We'll leave them alone until tomorrow morning. If the poet's still alive by then, maybe the old man and the girl will be more inclined to cooperate with us. If they still insist they don't know Zorro's identity, we'll just have to spend some more time with Don Diego.

"What about it, Don Alejandro? Your son in exchange for my brother? That sounds like a fair trade to me. And if my men and I have a little sport with him along the way…" Ramiro smiled, but it was a dark smile that promised nothing but more pain for Diego, and a nightmare that Alejandro would never be rid of for the rest of his life. "…Well, you can just think of that sport as the 'interest' you owe on your debt to me. Right?" He laughed cruelly as he turned and walked away.

One of the men (Alejandro thought his name was Pablo), took out his knife and sliced through the ropes around Diego's raw, swollen, wrists. Alejandro winced as his son's body fell. He heard Victoria sobbing beside him, but his eyes never left his son. Diego never even flinched when he hit the floor. _Madre de Dios. Please, God, let him still be alive._

Pablo and another of the bandits drug Diego through a nearby door and left him lying in the middle of the dirt floor. They came back, and Pablo untied Alejandro and Victoria, while his partner, Tomas, held a gun on them and motioned them toward the doorway. Alejandro wanted so badly to break into a run. His eyes fixed on Diego, sprawled face down, as motionless as a corpse. Alejandro didn't even hear the door slam shut behind him, or the latch fall into place as it locked them in.

Victoria dropped down onto her knees beside Diego and reached for his shoulder.

"Wait, Victoria! Don't move him yet." Alejandro dropped down on Diego's other side, and holding his breath, reached a trembling hand to his son's throat. _"Gracias a Dios!" _

He looked up at Victoria, tears unashamedly dripping down his cheeks. "He has a pulse. It's weak, but it's there. He's alive. We'll have to be very gentle moving him, though. He has broken ribs for sure, probably several. If we aren't extremely careful, one of them could puncture a lung when we turn him over."

Diego still exhibited no reaction whatsoever as they eased him over onto his back. Victoria carefully opened the front of his blood-caked shirt, and they realized that his entire left side and half of his right side was one massive bruise. She couldn't see what his abdomen looked like below the belt of his pants.

"He's probably bleeding inside, too, Alejandro. What can we do? He'll die if we can't get him to a doctor!"

Alejandro was examining the bullet wound in Diego's shoulder. It had finally stopped bleeding on its own, but had reopened a bit when Diego was dropped onto the floor. No exit wound showed on his back, so the musket ball was still there somewhere. It needed to come out, but there was nothing Alejandro could do about that at the moment.

The look he gave Victoria was bleak. "Even if we could leave here freely right now, Diego probably would be dead before we traveled a mile. If one of those broken ribs punctures a lung, he'll drown in his own blood…if he even has enough blood left to drown _in_. There's no way we could safely move him!"

He reached for the bucket of water and one of the rags. While Victoria held Diego's head in her lap and wiped his face, Alejandro began sponging the blood from his wounds. Diego still hadn't moved or made a sound.

It seemed like hours to Alejandro that they'd been kneeling there on that filthy floor, trying to bring Diego back to consciousness. There was no more bleeding, and they'd managed to wrap his shoulder and part of his ribcage (the part with the worst bruising and therefore the 2-3 ribs they _knew_ had to be broken) with strips of material Victoria had torn from one of her petticoats. His pulse was a little more regular, but his skin was pale and clammy, and Alejandro knew he was going into shock.

They wrapped him in a blanket they found lying in the corner of the room. Diego would be mortified if (_No! when!)_ he woke up and realized what was around him. The blanket was moth eaten, filthy, stinking of dirt and mildew, and God knew what else. But it was dry, and it was warm. God willing, it would keep him from going any further into shock than he already had.

How many times had Alejandro chided his overly fastidious son for not wanting to participate in ranch duties that might damage his fancy clothing or make him work up a sweat? How many times had Diego found excuses to get out of jobs where he might have to roll up his sleeves and get dirty? How much would he give right now for Diego to just wake up and start complaining about being wrapped in that dirty blanket? _O Dios, Diego. Please wake up. Please. _

Alejandro blinked back more tears as he gazed down at his son's head resting in Victoria's lap. He watched Victoria reach out a trembling hand and push a lock of hair off Diego's forehead. _That lock NEVER stays in place, no matter what Diego tries to do with it. I remember his mother brushing it back that same way, five or six times a day, when he was little. Diego would come running into the hacienda from the barn or the yard, crying with a scraped knee, and run into Elena's arms for comfort. She'd kiss his knee, clean and dress his scrapes, and rock him in her lap, brushing that lock of hair back off his forehead and holding his head against her chest until he fell asleep. _

He reached out and pulled the blanket down to recheck the bandage on Diego's shoulder. He was starting to pull the blanket back up when Victoria's voice stopped him. Her tone was puzzled, and a little shocked.

"Alejandro, is that a _snakebite_ scar on Diego's forearm? I didn't know he'd ever been bitten by a rattler!"

"What? No, he hasn't. He…."Alejandro's voice faded as he followed Victoria's finger to see the scar three inches above Diego's right wrist. He reached out and touched it. It most undeniably _was_ a snakebite scar. He could see the two circular puncture marks left by the snake's fangs…a rather _large _rattler, too. And the fang marks were crossed by the x-shaped knife scars left when the snakebite had been treated. Someone, at least, had sucked the poison from the wound. He pushed the blanket back down and peered closer.

"Victoria, I…I have no idea when that happened. I never knew about it! Diego never said _anything_. Those scars can't be more than a year old, if that! A bite from a snake that size would have made him very ill for at least a couple of days, even if he'd managed to suck most of the poison out as soon as it happened. How could he have hidden something like that?" He frowned. "For that matter, _why_ would he have hidden it?"

_This is crazy! Why in the **world** would Diego have hidden something as serious as a rattlesnake bite? He could have DIED! Diego takes to his bed for an entire day when he has a simple headache. Just last month he lay around for three days when he tripped on the stairs and twisted his ankle. Granted, he was limping quite a bit, but it wasn't swollen. It wasn't even bruised that I could see. I can't believe my hypochondriac son would ever attempt to hide a snake bite! Why would ANYONE try to hide something that serious? He would have to have had help from someone. But who? Obviously, it wasn't Victoria. Felipe? But, Felipe's a responsible boy. He would have come to me immediately; and he would have gone for the doctor. On the other hand, he idolizes Diego. If Diego told him NOT to go for help, would he….?_

Just then, Diego groaned, and Alejandro's priorities jumped back to immediate needs. _The snakebite mystery can wait, for now. Please just wake up, Son. _Diego's eyes blinked open for a second, He attempted to roll to his side, then gasped in pain and fell back. Alejandro took his son gently by his shoulders and kept him flat.

"Diego! Son, don't try to move. Just lie still."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Diego's eyes blinked open again, but they were unfocused and disoriented. As he gradually began to focus on his father's face, Alejandro breathed a sigh of relief.

"Por favor, Diego. Please lie still. You're badly injured, and you've lost a _lot_ of blood.The bleeding has finally stopped, but if you move around, it'll start up again."

Alejandro fought to hold back his tears as he watched the awareness of what had to be terrible pain building in Diego's gaze. He watched Diego's glance flicker around the room, taking in his surroundings, frowning as he tried to remember what had brought them here. His ragged breathing quickened, and his visual search became more frantic.

"Shhhh, Diego. Just relax. You're safe for now. _Please_ stay still." At the sound of Victoria's voice, the panic that had begun to show in Diego's face immediately disappeared. He fixed his eyes on Victoria, and Alejandro could feel some of the tension leave his son's shoulders.

"Vi…Victoria? Are…are you…ok?" _O Dios, he sounds so weak. He's barely even whispering. _

Victoria's tearful reply wasn't a whole lot louder than Diego's question, but the words tumbled out of her mouth so quickly Alejandro could barely follow them.

"I'm fine, Diego. So is your father. Oh, Diego, I'm so sorry. This would never have happened to you if Ramiro wasn't so certain I know who Zorro is. I tried to make him believe me, but he won't! I don't know, Diego. I swear I don't know. If I did, I would have told him. I _never_ would have let this go on so long!"

Even through all of the pain showing in Diego's face, Alejandro could see subtle changes of expression as Victoria kept speaking. Surprise. Chagrin. A hint of the same anger he thought he'd seen when Diego had first regained consciousness in the cabin. And then Alejandro's mouth fell open as he watched his son shakily reach up with one discolored, swollen hand, and attempt to wipe the tears from Victoria's cheek. The expression on his face, obvious both to Victoria and to a stunned Alejandro, was one of pure, undeniable adoration.

"Don't be sorry, Querida." Diego's words were strained, disjointed, and his voice was fading even as he spoke. "Even if you _had_ been able to give Ramiro Zorro's identity, it wouldn't have made any difference. Trust me. It would have just made matters worse, not better."

Diego's voice faded out completely on the last words, his eyes closed, and his hand dropped limply back onto the blanket. Alejandro and Victoria stared at each other. Victoria was sobbing uncontrollably. Alejandro was just stunned.

He reached across Diego and took Victoria's hand in his. He spoke softly, wonderingly, to Victoria.

"I think, my dear, I finally understand why Diego has resisted my urgings for him to marry for all this time."

_Of all the things Diego could have done that would surprise me, this one takes the cake! All the times I've nagged him about getting married and giving me grandbabies! All of the times I've pushed some pretty young thing at him, trying to get him to at least show an interest in **courting** a girl! How could I have missed seeing this? Has he been in love with Victoria all along? Why has he never said anything? Never given any indication that he felt anything more for her than the friendship they've had since they were children? _

There was very little more they could do for Diego with the little they had to work with. They took turns sponging his face and trying to dribble a little water between his chapped lips. Over the next hour or so, they could tell he was beginning to develop a fever. His condition wasn't likely to improve as long as that bullet remained in his shoulder, and Ramiro just laughed in their faces when Victoria begged for a sharp knife so they could try to remove it. _Por favor, Dios. Don't let my son get blood poisoning from this. _

Alejandro had explored the small room while Victoria was sitting with Diego. There was nothing they could conceivably use to help them escape. The two windows in the lean-to were large enough to let in light, but small enough that no one larger than a three-year-old child could possibly have climbed through them. There was no way to dig under the wall, even though the floor was dirt. It was packed so hard it might as well have been rock. Besides, they had nothing to dig with.

All they could do was to pray for a rescuer. He went back and sat on the floor next to Diego. Victoria got up for a moment to stretch her legs.

Just then, Diego moaned again. His eyelids fluttered and finally opened. His blue eyes, normally so full of life, were dulled by pain and fever, but they fixed on Alejandro with an intensity that he found startling.

"F-father? How-how long have I been out?"

His voice was little more than a hoarse croak. Alejandro quickly slipped one hand under Diego's head and gently raised it just a bit. He dipped his other hand into the bucket of water next to him, and held his hand to Diego's mouth so Diego could drink. _Damn Ramiro. He couldn't even give us a cup or a dipper in the bucket. _

Even that slight movement caused Diego to gasp in pain, and his hand instinctively groped for the nearest object, which happened to be his father's forearm. Diego's grip tightened convulsively in reaction to the pain, and Alejandro thought for a moment his wrist was going to snap. He'd never realized just how strong Diego was before.

"Shhhh. Don't try to talk, Diego. Stay quiet. You've been out most of the afternoon. You've had us pretty scared."

"Can't….I…can't think ...straight." _O, Son. Right now, I'm just thankful you can think at all!_

"Don't worry about it, Diego. Just rest. I don't think they're going to bother us any more tonight."

"You…you need to…look for…a way out of here."

"I've already looked, son. I'm afraid Ramiro has a pretty good setup here. There's no way we're getting out of this room without help."

Diego closed his eyes, but his head moved restlessly against his father's supportive hand. Alejandro could feel his body becoming tense.

"Help me up, please." Diego was white as a sheet, and there was no strength at all in his attempt to raise his head off Alejandro's hand. He hadn't moved two inches before his head fell back down. Perspiration was streaming from his ashen face. His good hand grabbed his side. Not that his hand looked that good, with the rope burns and bruising around his wrist. Cradling his broken ribs from the movement, and the sudden onset of pain-induced nausea, he fought the almost overwhelming urge to vomit. He lost the battle.

"Mierda! Diego, I _told_ you not to move!"

Alejandro and Victoria eased Diego onto his side as quickly and gently as they could, and held him until the heaving stopped. With each spasm, Alejandro knew that Diego's broken ribs were grinding together, stabbing farther into his side, increasing the risk of a punctured lung. He could feel Diego shuddering from the pain.

By the time the nausea subsided, Diego was drenched with sweat, and hadn't even the strength to groan. While Victoria cleaned up the mess the best she could, Alejandro just sat there, holding Diego half in his lap. The slight elevation seemed to ease his breathing a little, but it was still several minutes before Diego's eyes opened again.

"Diego, whatever you do, do** not** try to move again! What were you thinking of?"

Alejandro hadn't thought it possible for Diego's voice to sound any weaker, but it did. He had to strain to even understand what his son was saying.

"I...was…thinking…of finding a way…out of here. I'm sorry...I'm ...I'm afraid…I'm not going to be able to help."

"Oh, Diego! What did you…." But Diego had passed out again.

One of Ramiro's men finally brought them a bucket of clean water. They sponged Diego's face off again. Even his bandages were soaked with sweat after that bout of nausea, and there was fresh blood showing again around the bullet wound. Not a lot more, but Diego couldn't afford to lose it, anyway.

The next time Diego woke up, he found Victoria beside him, her hand on his cheek, turning his face so she was the first thing he saw. His father was still sitting behind him, a human pillow, and his strong hands were holding Diego's shoulders from behind, so Diego couldn't try to move again.

"Okay, you two…. I get the message…. I promise I'll…stay put this time." His voice was still less than a whisper, the words interspersed by shallow, gasping breaths; but he was coherent. One corner of his mouth even tried to twitch into a hint of a very sheepish smile, but the effect wasn't exactly successful when the twitch turned into a pained wince as his breath caught from the effort of speaking.

"You'd _better_ stay put!" Alejandro could hear the concerned affection in Victoria's voice as she threatened Diego.

"Diego?" Alejandro got his son's attention. "Do _not_ try to talk any more right now. Save your strength. Just listen to me. I'll explain everything you need to know right now.

"We are _not_ going to get out of here by ourselves. Even if we could find a way out, we couldn't take it. You're in no condition to be moved. You've already proven that. Besides, there _is_ no way. I've already checked out this room, and there are too many men in the next room for us to be able to do anything against them.

"But it's a long way from being hopeless, Son." Alejandro gave Diego the one calming piece of knowledge he had about the situation. If anything would let his son relax and rest without worrying so much, this should do it.

"When we didn't arrive at the vineyard by lunch time, the friars would have been concerned. They would have sent word back to Los Angeles that we never arrived." He smiled reassuringly at Diego. "By now, Zorro must know that we're missing. You know perfectly well he'll move heaven and earth to find Victoria and keep her safe. Knowing Zorro, he'll be here within a few hours. All we have to do is hold on until he arrives."

"That's right, Diego," Victoria agreed. "Zorro will _never_ stop until he finds us. You know that. By this time tomorrow, Ramiro and his gang will be wishing they'd never even considered coming back to Los Angeles. You just wait and see!"

Never in a million years would either Alejandro or Victoria have anticipated the result their confident assurance of Zorro's anticipated rescue would have on the wounded man lying in front of them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Diego's whole body stiffened as his head fell back against his father's chest. Alejandro's arms tightened around his son before he could start flailing around, but he couldn't completely stop Diego from struggling against his hold.

Alejandro listened in disbelief as Diego let loose a string of expletives that Alejandro didn't even realize his son _knew_. He'd certainly never heard him use that kind of language before. Diego didn't even seem to care that Victoria was hearing him.

"O Dios! Father. Victoria. Por favor, please don't count on Zorro to rescue us. Zorro…Zorro can't be everywhere." Diego's stare swung back and forth between his Alejandro and Victoria, his eyes pleading with each of them. "Please. You _must _listen to me! He…uh…I saw him…yesterday…he was…said he'd be gone...for a while…."

Diego was forcing the words out as if his life depended on them. As Alejandro began to comprehend what his son was saying, he frighteningly realized that _all _of their lives might be forfeit if Diego was right. Though Diego's voice was still weak, it was stronger, more insistent, than it had been at any time since he had been injured. But the toll the effort was taking on him was obvious. By the time he finished, his face had taken on a grayish tinge, and his breathing had become much harsher. He was barely breathing deeply enough to get air into his lungs, and each breath turned into a faint, wheezing groan as he forced himself to push that air back out of his lungs, despite the agony that felt like a dozen knives stabbing into his side each time he inhaled.

Alejandro and Victoria looked at each other, horror-stricken at the reaction Diego'd had to what they had _thought_ would calm him and maybe convince him to try and sleep. They held him again as he struggled now, just trying to breathe. Then the coughing started, and Alejandro shuddered when he saw a small trickle of blood run slowly from one corner of Diego's mouth. The sudden movements had been too much. His lung was punctured.

There was little more they could do for Diego with only a bucket of water and a few rags to work with. They took turns sitting behind him, holding him half in their laps, with his head and torso elevated so he could breathe at least a _little_ easier. Hopefully, if they could just keep him still, the bleeding would stop on its own. His skin continued to be clammy and pale, but now his cheeks were reddened from fever. The swelling in his hands was beginning to go down, but the bullet wound in his shoulder was showing signs of becoming inflamed. He tossed his head restlessly from side to side, and although he would occasionally open his eyes and say something, the things he said didn't always make any sense. Both Alejandro and Victoria were surprised when much of his fevered muttering seemed to become a rant against Zorro. Against his will, Alejandro found that Diego's mutters reminded him far too frequently of uncomfortable conversations he'd had in the past with his son.

"Zorro…can do…anythi…."

_Diego, why can't you be more like Zorro? Get your nose out of your books and **do** something! Stand with us against the alcalde!_

"Zorro…n…never…lets anyone…down."

_You are a de la Vega! Our name has always stood for justice, honor, courage! How could I have raised a son who is such a **coward**?_

"Zorro this…Zorro that."

_You and your ridiculous "experiments". You should have been in the plaza today, Son. Zorro showed up and…."_

"Sick of Zorro!"

_Zorro would never let a simple head cold keep him from riding if someone was in trouble!_

"Wish I'd never _heard _of Zorro."

_Santa Maria, Madre de Dios! What have I done to my son? How many times have I told him I wished he'd be more like Zorro? How many times have I raked him over the coals, for choosing to be a man who fights his battles with words instead of with swords and guns. He sounds so bitter…so hopeless. Have I ever told him how proud I am of the way he took over the newspaper when no one else had any idea what to do with the printing press? He's stood against the alcalde many times in his editorials, and in front page articles, too. His writing is so good. He got that from his mother. He is so much like her in so many ways. O Elena. How many times have I been furious at Diego, shown my disappointment in his actions, simply for showing the parts of his personality that he got from you…the same characteristics that I fell in love with you for having in the first place!_

Alejandro couldn't help but notice that even though he had been delirious for most of the past hour, Diego continued to worry about his and Victoria's safety. _That's odd. He's so worried about **our** safety, but he hasn't made one reference to his **own** situation. He's in so much pain from that beating, and the bullet wound is infected, now, too. Most men, even trained soldiers, would be reliving that nightmare and begging for the torture to stop. All Diego is thinking about, even unconsciously, is finding a way to get **us** out of here. _

"Father! Get her out of here. Please. Just take her with you and go. Please do this for me. Please!"

Diego was speaking again. He'd been lucid occasionally for a moment or two at a time, but those moments of awareness were becoming fewer as the hours passed and his fever grew. Right now, his eyes were fixed desperately on his father's, and his fingers were gripped painfully around Alejandro's wrist again. _Dios mi! How did he ever get so strong? _

"Shhh. I'll take care of Victoria, Son. Let me worry about that for now. You just lie still and concentrate on getting better."

It wasn't the first time during those hours that he'd begged Alejandro to leave him and get Victoria away from there. Or the first time Alejandro had needed to reassure Diego he would take care of the tavern owner. Diego also tended to be far more agitated whenever Victoria was out of his sight.

"Padre, por favor. You don't understand." Diego's voice was weakening again. "I…I love her so much. Please, promise me, just keep her safe for me."

Victoria was on Diego's other side, and he wasn't looking in her direction at the moment. Alejandro could hear her sobbing in the background, but he couldn't pull his eyes away from his son's face. For the moment, at least, Diego didn't seem to be aware that Victoria was even there. Diego's gaze was glued to Alejandro's, even as his awareness again faded back into delirium. The desperation of that look was combined with other emotions that terrified Alejandro to see. His mind flashed back to the only other time he remembered ever seeing that same expression in Diego's face, and hearing that heart-rending plea for a promise from his father. A child's confidence that his papa would do _anything_ he promised to do, and a sudden terrified, dawning awareness that this time, there might be nothing he _could_ do.

_Papa? Is Mama sick again? Will she be better tomorrow? She said she'd read me a story when she is feeling better. **Papa**? Will you promise me she'll be better tomorrow? Promise, **please**! Papa, **why are you crying**? NOOOO!"_

Alejandro's haunted eyes lifted from his son's face and found Victoria's. _Dios! How he must love this woman! _The dread in Alejandro's eyes was reflected in her own, and he realized suddenly that in his fear for Diego's life, he'd not even taken the time to make sure Victoria was OK. They'd been working together, trying to keep Diego alive and as comfortable as they could make him, and they hadn't talked about _anything_ else at all.

_Diego **loves** her. Not like a friend. Not like a brother. He **loves** her. He is madly, passionately, completely in love with Victoria Escalante. And she's in love with Zorro. My poor son. I'm not sure how **I** would handle the possibility of having someone like El Zorro as a rival for the affections of a lady! Diego wouldn't even know where to **begin**! _

_Why didn't he ever tell me? I could have helped him find a way to court her. Or did he just believe I would laugh at him for even thinking about trying to win Zorro's sweetheart away from him? I really haven't given Diego much cause to think I have any faith in his abilities in **any** area, have I? No wonder he has so little confidence in himself. _

"Victoria?" He hesitated, not quite sure how to continue. "May I ask you a question?"

Victoria met his gaze with an anguished one of her own. The revelation of Diego's strong attraction to her, along with the uncertainty of their situation, and her fears for Diego's survival, had left her with dark circles under eyes that were red and puffy from crying.

"Of course, Alejandro. You may ask me anything. You know that." She held her head high and waited. She had a pretty good idea what Don Alejandro was going to ask her. She'd certainly been thinking about it enough as she sat there with Diego's head in her lap, listening to him struggle just to breathe.

"Did you know that Diego was in love with you?"

Alejandro kept his eyes on Victoria's face as she blushed and looked thoughtfully back down at Diego, once again pushing that stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"I think I've always known that Diego had some feelings for me, Alejandro. We've just both worked very hard to ignore that fact over the years…to pretend that neither of us noticed it."

"Why?"

"I do love Diego, Alejandro. In some ways, I always have. He's the best friend I have ever had. He's probably the best friend I ever _will_ have. Actually, we were a bit sweet on each other even before he left for Spain. But we were so young, then, and nothing came of it.

"If Zorro had never come along, I think it's very likely Diego would have started courting me when he returned from Spain. And I would have been more than willing. I know the attraction was there. I felt it that first day I saw him in the tavern. Remember? When I dumped the lemonade on that drunken lancer, and Diego jumped in to protect me when he got mad?

"But, when Diego came home, Zorro DID appear… about that same time…and I fell head over heels in love with him, and he fell in love with me." She paused for a second, and then continued. "Diego realized that even before I did." She paused again. "You know, I think he even realized it before _Zorro_ did."

Victoria met Alejandro's eyes again, with just a hint of a sad smile on her face that almost broke Alejandro's heart when he thought of what _might_ have been.

"Diego is far too much of a gentleman to try to force a relationship when he knows how much I love Zorro. And he is so different from Zorro. Zorro is a warrior, a man of action. Diego is a scholar and a scientist. He's a quiet, gentle man who'd never hurt a fly. He…he seems to think so little of his own strengths. I don't think it would ever cross his mind that he might have a chance of gaining my affections on his own merits. I don't think he would ever even _try_. He'd be too certain I would reject him in favor of Zorro. He knows how much we love each other.

"I value Diego's friendship _so_ much, Don Alejandro. If he had ever _tried_ to court me, knowing my feelings for Zorro, it would have been very difficult…probably impossible…for our friendship to ever have stayed so close. We would have become too awkward around each other."

Victoria continued to hold Alejandro's eyes for another moment, but as she spoke her next sentence, her gaze returned to Diego's closed eyes, and her voice dropped to a barely audible murmur.

"I couldn't stand to lose Diego's friendship. I think that would kill me as quickly as losing Zorro's love." She finally broke down, reaching to cup Diego's face in her hands, bending and touching his forehead with a gentle kiss. She looked back up at Alejandro, both love and anguish plainly visible in her expression.

"O Dios! I don't want to lose him! Certainly not like this!"

Alejandro reached across his son for the second time that evening, and took Victoria Escalante into his arms. They sat there for several minutes, holding onto each other for the comfort that both of them needed. Their tears mingled as they watched the man they both feared was slowly dying before their eyes. And there was really nothing they could do to prevent it from happening.

Finally, Victoria quietly whispered her own question to her best friend's father, the man who'd been a substitute father to her, too, for so many years now.

"Is it possible for a woman to love two such different men at the same time, Don Alejandro? I've avoided asking myself that question for so many years."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Alejandro was sitting on the dirt floor, his back against the wall, his arms around one flexed knee providing a head rest as he tried to find some sense in everything that had happened since Ramiro and his gang appeared. The night was half gone, now. Alejandro estimated that it had been about fifteen hours since Diego had been shot and this nightmare had begun. _Fifteen hours…a lifetime for a badly wounded man with no medical care._

Diego's head was resting in Victoria's lap again. Both of them had become very aware of the fact that what little rest Diego was getting seemed to occur only when he knew, even if it was just subconsciously, that Victoria was there with him.

Alejandro visibly flinched when he heard Diego let out another soft, racking cough, followed by a short, shallow breath. He buried his head in his hands for a moment. Then he pushed himself up from the floor, shuffled over and took Victoria's place so she could stretch for a few minutes.

He'd been listening to his son's labored breathing for what seemed like an eternity. He knew exactly what would come next. Three or four shallow breaths, each followed by a low moaning exhalation that tore into Alejandro's heart like a knife. Then would come the moment when, in desperation, Diego's oxygen-starved brain would force him to take one large, gasping, deep breath to suck in enough air to keep him alive just a little longer. His body would stiffen in agony as the gasp poked the broken ribs into his side again. The cough that inevitably followed might or might not leave them wiping more blood from Diego's mouth. Then the cycle would start all over again. But the coughs were becoming weaker, and the "deep" breaths farther apart and not as deep as they had been earlier.

_Dios mi! My son is dying in my arms. Even if we were to be rescued right now, we wouldn't dare try to move him. And I'm not any too sure we would have time to send for the doctor and get him back here before it's too late. _

_Who am I trying to fool? I spent ten years as a soldier. I've seen all kinds of wounds, in all kinds of circumstances. If Dr. Hernandez were to walk into this room right now, I doubt he would be able to save Diego. Fifteen hours with no care, a bullet wound that's badly infected, the bullet still in his shoulder, God knows how many broken ribs and internal injuries, and a punctured lung that's slowly filling up with blood. He's not going to make it. _

It had been over two hours, now, since the last time Diego had spoken or shown any sign that he was even partially conscious. Alejandro thought back again to the delirious murmurs his son had been making earlier. Amidst the ranting against Zorro, there had also been a surprising number of endearments to Victoria.

Alejandro had watched Victoria's growing awareness of just how strong Diego's love for her was. She was noticeably shaken by several of his comments. When Diego had mumbled something about "roses on her pillow", Alejandro heard her gasp of shock, and thought for a moment she was going to faint.

_Roses on her pillow? Had his notoriously, supposedly unromantic son actually managed to slip unnoticed into a lady's bedchamber and leave anonymous flowers for her to find? For that matter, it was a good thing Alejandro had never caught his son slipping into Victoria's private chambers, for **whatever** the reason!_

Then there was the remark about "kisses stolen in the night". _Strange. I would have expected Victoria to look embarrassed about something like that if it had actually happened. She looks more like she just saw a ghost!_

"Alejandro, I swear, I've _never_ kissed Diego…." Her voice stopped. Her eyes widened as she stared first at Don Alejandro, then back down to Diego. Then back to Alejandro. This time her gaze was almost panicked.

"Oh, no. O Dios, NO!" She started to say something else, then she paused and looked back to Diego again. Alejandro could see the tears pouring down her face, even while he puzzled over her expression.

_She's terrified! Does she think I would be that judgmental to find out that she and Diego had been meeting secretly? Disappointed with both of them, yes. Probably angry if I had caught them at it. But if I were either of them, I would have been much more concerned about the thought of **Zorro** catching them together. _

_Yet, she just said she'd never kissed Diego. And I don't believe she'd lie about that. Especially not now. Oh, Diego! I guess all of your love for Victoria was hidden in your dreams, wasn't it? How foolish! And how sad. _

_But why does Victoria look so panic-stricken?_

"Victoria. I believe you, my dear. I know you _and_ Diego well enough to know neither of you would have done anything inappropriate. I suspect that Diego, though, must have done a lot of _dreaming_ about claiming you as his own. And right now, he can't separate the dreams from the reality."

Victoria looked at him so weirdly. She stared at Alejandro for a long moment, and Alejandro watched her expression change from shocked panic, to surprise, to a profound sorrow. He thought she was going to say something. Her mouth opened, then closed, then she bowed her head back down to Diego's and gave him the gentlest, yet most loving kiss Alejandro had ever seen. Her hand was trembling as she raised it to wipe the tears from her face. She took a deep, shuddering breath before she faced him again.

"I…he…you didn't know, either, did you?"

"That Diego loves you? No, child. I had no idea whatsoever."

She gave him another oddly penetrating look, then smiled sadly.

"I'm not surprised at that. I think we'd better talk about it later, though. Somehow, I think it would just make things harder if we try to figure it out now. I…I don't think Diego would want that."

_She's not making a whole lot more sense than Diego was! Poor child. She may be realizing that she has deeper feelings for Diego than she ever considered before. If that's the case, she's going to need as much emotional support from me as I'm going to need from her for the next few hours. _His heart sank again as he thought about what the next few hours were going to be like. _Probably a lot longer than that. _


	6. Chapter 6

**NOTE/DISCLAIMER**: I just realized I forgot to put the disclaimer at the beginning of this story. Chalk that up to being a first-time poster. Sorry. Anyway, I do not own any of these characters with the exception of Jose Ramiro and his gang. This story is being written purely for the entertainment of Zorro lovers everywhere, and is not intended to infringe on copyrights held by Goodman/Rosen Productions, New World Television, Zorro Productions, the estate of Johnston McCulley or any other.

**Chapter 6**

Jose Ramiro and his men were gone. They left just before sunrise. Alejandro and Victoria had heard them moving around in the other room, but couldn't quite catch what they were saying to each other. Just before they left, Ramiro came into the lean-to, with Pablo and Tomas flanking him. Alejandro pushed himself up off the floor where he'd been sitting by Diego, and interposed himself protectively between the bandit and his son. Ramiro would touch Diego again only over Alejandro's dead body!

"So! He's still alive, is he? I'm a little surprised at that. He looks a bit the worse for wear, though." Ramiro's sarcastic smirk sent chills down Don Alejandro's back. "You can relax, old man. I'm not coming to continue our little "discussion". There's been a change of plans.

"I'll have to admit that Don Diego proved to be quite different than your alcalde led me to expect. He said your son was a weakling, a bookworm, hopelessly inept at anything requiring any real ability other than book knowledge. He told me that Don Diego was notorious for disappearing any time there was anything remotely dangerous or physically demanding going on. I fully expected the man to be begging you to tell anything you might know about Zorro, even before we started questioning you.

"De Soto obviously doesn't know your son as well as he bragged that he did, or else he deliberately misled me. Considering what he was wanting from me, I can't see any reason for him to have done that."

There was a grudging respect in Ramiro's voice as he continued, nodding toward Diego. "That one is about as weak and flabby as a blade of Toledo steel! You know my history, de la Vega. I've…ah, shall we say…_entertained_ many men over the course of my career, for many reasons." He stared Alejandro straight in the eye as he continued. "I can't think of _one_ who ever withstood the type of beating your son received without at least once begging us to stop, or begging us just to go ahead and kill him and get it over with.

"I've been thinking about this all night. I still don't think you and the lovely senorita were telling the truth when you said you _don't_ know Zorro's identity. But I really don't believe I want my men and me to be here when Zorro comes looking for you. And that could be any time, now. So, old man, when we leave here, you're free."

Alejandro was trying to process everything Ramiro was saying, but those last two words shook every other thought away. _We're free? He's letting us go? WHY?_

"Do you expect me to believe you just intend to let us go free to identify you to the alclalde's men? You said you also wanted revenge for your brother's death. Why should I believe you've changed your mind?"

"Oh, I haven't changed my mind about **that**, Don Alejandro." Ramiro's sadistic smile returned full force. "I **know** what I did to your son, senor. I am amazed he's still alive this morning. He doesn't give up easily, does he? I think that letting the two of you live, knowing that you could have prevented his death simply by giving me El Zorro's identity, will be acceptable as that "payment with interest" we discussed yesterday morning. Don't you?"

As Jose Ramiro turned and strode cockily from the room, not even bothering to latch it behind him, Don Alejandro de la Vega wilted. He had aged at least ten years in the past twenty-four hours. For the first time in his life, he truly felt _old_. And defeated.

Victoria stretched over and placed her hand on Alejandro's arm. Her eyes were full of compassion and love for the old don, and something else Alejandro still hadn't quite figured out, yet. She seemed, however, to have come to an acceptance of Diego's love for her, and he could tell from her distress throughout the night that she had also come to a realization that she returned that love, at least to some extent…despite her well-known attachment to El Zorro.

"Don Alejandro, we couldn't have told him what we didn't know. And if we had been able to tell him who Zorro is…" Her voice broke, and fell to a whisper as she began to sob again. "Diego was right. It would only have made matters so much worse."

Alejandro watched her as she touched Diego's face, lovingly pushing back that errant lock of hair yet again. _Oh, my son. Why couldn't you and Victoria have discovered each other sooner? You might have had a better chance than you realized of winning her away from Zorro. Dios! Diego, don't leave me. Please, son._

They sat there. The last time they had tried to switch positions, even that carefully guarded movement had sent Diego into a spasm of agonized coughing. Aside from that, though, there was nothing. No gasping. No moaning. At times Alejandro held his own breath, just watching Diego's chest for the minute rise and fall that was all that told him his son was breathing. Diego's head still rested in his father's lap. Alejandro's legs had been asleep for a good half hour, but he didn't even consider trying to move.

Victoria just sat beside them, never letting go of Diego's hand, her gaze rarely leaving his son's face. The expressions on her face continued to puzzle the old don. There was love. _Definitely love._ Sorrow. _Definitely that, too. I understand those. _

Pride. Awe.

_Awe? She may have known that Diego "had feelings" for her, but I'd wager she had no idea how strong those feelings were. I never dreamed Diego could be so secretive! I wonder…is it possible that he's just shy with women? After all, he was so young when his mother died. The only women he was really around much after that were the servants. I wonder if he ever even courted a lady in Madrid? _

_Pride. Victoria's proud of Diego. Have I **ever once** told my son how proud I am of his accomplishments? All of the things he's done with the newspaper, his generosity and charity, the way he doesn't look down at the peasants like so many of the young caballeros do. The way he's raised Felipe, and helped him overcome his handicaps. _

_Diego was still really a boy himself when he first found Felipe. It would have been so easy to have just deposited him at the nearest orphanage and forgotten about him. Add in his deafness, and the trauma from the loss of his parents, and not many men Diego's age would have taken on that kind of responsibility. Let alone have succeeded._

_O Madre de Dios! Felipe! I hadn't even thought about him. He's considered Diego his father for years, now. They're so close. **If Diego dies, how do I tell that child he's lost ANOTHER parent? **After all he's already gone through, what will it do to him? Jesu, please help us! Please don't take Diego away from Felipe…or Victoria….or from me. Por favor, Dios. Por favor. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

It was an hour or so later that Alejandro felt Diego's head move slightly, and saw his blue eyes waver open, then squeeze shut again as the awareness of his agony grew sharper. Alejandro sucked in his breath in amazement as he watched Diego try to block the acknowledgment of that pain from his face before he opened his eyes again.

_Dios! How can he do that in his condition? He's not really succeeding, but if it's so important to him, I can't let him know I'm seeing through his efforts. Santa Maria, help me give my son at least that much. Please help me be half as strong as he is!_

He felt Diego start to tense up again when he didn't immediately see Victoria. Quickly grabbing his son's shoulders to hold him still, he was determined to prevent the disastrous consequences that had occurred the last time Diego had attempted to move around.

"It's OK, son. Nothing's happened to Victoria. Relax. She'll be back shortly." _I hope._

"Where…where…is…she?"

Alejandro hesitated before answering, and immediately found his wrist again imprisoned in Diego's grip. This time, however, there was very little strength in that grip. Alejandro fought to control the despair that threatened to show up on his own countenance, and forced a falsely bright smile onto his face.

"Ramiro and his men are gone. They left about an hour and a half ago. About twenty minutes ago we heard a lot of gunfire, maybe a half mile away. It's stopped now. I could hear military muskets. We think the bandits must have run into a patrol...probably one out looking for us. Victoria went to see if she can catch up with the lancers and get help."

"No! You…shouldn't have…let her…go! Too dan…ger…ous!" Diego started coughing again, and Alejandro propped his head a little higher as he wiped the blood from the corner of Diego's mouth again. His "smile" faltered just a bit.

"Diego, it _had _to be her. I'm old. I've been sitting here like this so long my legs are too stiff. I wouldn't have been able to move quickly enough to make it before the soldiers get out of the area. We need help _now_, son. We've got to get you to a doctor."

Diego's eyes met his father's in the most direct, intense stare Alejandro had ever seen Diego give anyone.

"Father…I think…we both… know…it's far too late…for a…doctor…to help…now." Diego coughed some more, and rested limply in his father's arms, his eyes holding Alejandro's.

_O Dios! He knows he's dying. What do I say to him?_

"Just hang on, Diego. Hang on. Please. Help should be here in just a few more minutes. Don't give up. Please, hijo, keep fighting."

_I've got to keep talking to him. I've got to keep him awake!_

"So…tired…too _much_ fighting…too long…."

_What?_

"Diego, just listen to me. Let me do the talking, OK? Save your breath."

"Don't…_like_…to fight. Never…wanted…."

"Shhh. I know, son."

_Santa Maria, why didn't I appreciate him more for what he IS, instead of always pushing him to be the type of man I was at his age? I never wanted him to have to be in the military. Why did I always complain because he didn't want to fight like a soldier?_

"Diego, look at me, son. Listen to me." Diego's eyes locked onto his father's face. "I've found out more about you in the last twenty-four hours than I've learned in the past eight years since you came home from Spain."

Diego's eyes widened and Alejandro felt him stiffen again. _What did I say to make him so nervous? He looks guilty, like he did as a child when we caught him doing something he knew he wasn't supposed to do! What is he so concerned about me finding out?_

"It's OK, Diego. I don't know what you're so worried about me knowing, but whatever it is, it can't be anything so bad you need to worry about it now. Please let me say this, hijo.

"If I've learned anything from this nightmare, I know I've been badly mistaken about the type of son I have. I once called you a coward, Diego. You've no idea how many times I've regretted those words, but never more than right now."

Tears were streaming down Alejandro's face, and he made no effort to control them. Diego's face softened and he tried to reach up to his father, but Don Alejandro caught his hand and held it.

"Let me finish, please. I've sat here with you all night. You were feverish, and you were saying a lot of things you didn't even know you were saying." _He's tensing up again. _"Diego, all you could think about all night long was finding a way to get us out of here. Not to get _yourself_ out. To get Victoria and me out. You would wake up, and there would be pure panic in your face at first. But only until you knew we were still here and unharmed." Alejandro forced a smile to his face again. "Well, actually I think you were a little more concerned about Victoria than about your old father, here.

"I know you love Victoria, Diego. She knows, too." A slight hint of a _real_ smile crossed Alejandro's face at the range of emotions that Diego's pale face expressed after those words. "We'll talk about that _later_, son, when Victoria gets back. Right now, I need to tell you something that's very important to _me_."

He took a deep, trembling breath before he continued.

"Diego, you're not a coward. No coward would be so concerned for another person's welfare, and so _un_concerned about his own, under these circumstances. You're a man who values _peace_, Diego, and peaceful solutions to problems. That's _not_ the same as being a coward. I think I've finally realized the difference. I'm _so_ sorry for taking so long to understand that, and for causing you so much pain over the years with my words."

Diego's mouth had been opening and closing as he tried to interrupt his father, but Alejandro hadn't let him until he was finished. Now he watched as Diego's own eyes filled with tears.

"You…you saw what…what I…_let_ you see…, Father. I'm…so…sorry….all the lies….Never wanted…hurt…make you…ashamed…."

_Lies? What lies? What is he talking about? _Then the rest of what Diego was saying sunk in, and one word started echoing through Alejandro's horrified consciousness: 'Ashamed…ashamed…ashamed…ashamed!'

_O Madre de Dios! Santa Maria, Madre de Dios! My son thinks I'm **ashamed** of him! _ The words flew out of his mouth. He couldn't have slowed down if his life depended on it.

"NO! Diego, listen to me! O Dios, son, I'm not ashamed of you! I'm so proud of you…of all of the things you've accomplished: the Guardian, the way you've raised Felipe, your intelligence….Son, I may not always _understand_ you. I know that's come out as criticism far too often. You're so like your mother, Diego…much more than you're like me! Yet I keep trying to make you more like me.

"Hijo, you're all of the things I so loved about your mother. You're gentle, patient, filled with a love for the arts and for learning. All I've ever known is soldiering and ranching. I wanted you to know so much more, and then I complained because you don't love the same things I do. Can you ever forgive me for that?"

"You…you're…proud of me?" Alejandro fought not to break down completely at the sight of the desperate hope in Diego's eyes.

"Oh, yes, son! Oh, yes!" Diego's eyes closed, and he sighed peacefully. Then his eyes opened slightly again, and his frown was back. He tried to speak, but his voice was so faint Alejandro had to strain you make out his words.

"Victoria…where's Victoria?"

Alejandro could hear hoofbeats in the distance, coming closer. He glanced up at the window and saw Sergeant Mendoza and several lancers galloping toward the cabin, with Victoria mounted behind Mendoza. _Gracias a Dios!_

"She's coming right now, Diego. Mendoza's soldiers are here. You rest. Everything will be all right, now."

Victoria swung down from behind Mendoza and came running into the cabin. She dropped down beside Diego and took his hand. As their gazes met, Victoria gave Diego a tremulous smile, leaned down, and kissed him on the lips. It was the kiss of a lover, not the kiss of a friend.

Alejandro saw Diego's eyes widen. He cautiously allowed Mendoza to help him draw his legs out from under Diego and let Victoria take his place. Diego went into another coughing spell, but as soon as the coughing ended, he gave his father a tired smile and a grateful glance. Then his eyes met Victoria's, and it was immediately obvious, at least to Don Alejandro de la Vega, that everyone else in the room had ceased to exist for them.

Alejandro let Mendoza assist him to his feet, and stumbled into the other room, pulling Mendoza with him. He glanced back to see Victoria cupping Diego's cheek in her hand, murmuring something he couldn't hear. His son smiled, took Victoria's hand in his weak grip, and pulled her down toward him. Alejandro closed the door and left them alone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Don Alejandro de la Vega hesitated outside of the door he'd just closed. His shoulders sagged, his hand still resting on the door latch. His heart cried out that he should never have left Diego's side. _Not now._ Then he remembered the quick glimpse he'd had of Diego's face when Victoria leaned over and kissed him. Biting his lower lip in determination and resignation, he moved away from the door. He swayed a bit and would have fallen if Mendoza had not grabbed him by the arm and headed him toward a chair…ironically, the same chair he had earlier been tied to while Ramiro's "interrogation" was in process.

"Don Alejandro, you're exhausted." The sergeant looked around for the nearest lancer. "Sancho, bring Senor de la Vega something to drink…wine or brandy if you can find it."

"Si, Sergeant!"

When the private returned with a military issue canteen, Sergeant Mendoza took a sniff of the contents and raised his eyebrows, then turned sheepishly and offered the canteen to Don Alejandro. He took the canteen in hands that were obviously shaking, sniffed for himself and raised his _own _eyebrows to the sergeant, but then took a healthy swig of the potent beverage, and leaned his head back against the wall behind him.

"Thank you, Sergeant. I needed that." His voice sounded gruff, raspy…even to his own ears. "It's been a very long night." He breathed deeply, then let out a long, disheartened sigh. "I don't see the day becoming any better."

"No, Senor, it...I…." Sgt. Jaime Mendoza took a deep breath before he spoke again, and his voice was rough in its grief, reminding Alejandro that this man was his son's friend. "Senorita Escalante was almost hysterical when she found us. I…I had hoped that things weren't as bad as she said they were, but…now that I've seen Diego, I…." His voice faded.

_Dear old Mendoza. He and Diego have to be the most unlikely pair of friends in Alta California. But friends they are, and no man could be more loyal to his friends than the sergeant. He's such a kind-hearted person to be a soldier. He's ready to cry, too. And he won't think twice about letting his men see him do it, either. I should learn from him._

Alejandro sat with his head in his hands, not looking at Mendoza as he whispered. "Have you ever had to sit and listen to someone you love struggling just to get enough air into his lungs to stay alive, when you know that every breath he takes is like having someone stab a knife into his chest…over and over…for hours?"

Don Alejandro finally surrendered to the horror of the past day and night. His shoulders shook as he broke into racking sobs. Mendoza didn't even try to reply to the old don. He just stood beside him, with his hand on Alejandro's shoulder. His own tears streaked his cheeks as he tried **not** to picture his gentle, scholarly friend undergoing the type of suffering Senorita Escalante had described to him as they were riding back to the cabin.

It took several minutes for Don Alejandro to compose himself, but he managed to do so. Diego still needed him to be strong, both for himself and for Victoria. He took a deep, shuddering breath, rubbed a still shaky hand across his face, and stood to go back into the lean-to.

Before he reached the door, though, it opened. The glazed look of disbelief in Victoria's eyes, and the tears running down her cheeks as she attempted to speak, told Alejandro all he _didn't_ want to hear. His breath caught in his throat, and one fist rose to his mouth in an instinctive gesture of denial. Then he stiffened himself to his full height, reached out, and drew Victoria into a tight embrace as she crumpled against him. Their tears mingled as they just stood there, with Victoria's head buried in Don Alejandro's chest, both trying to comprehend the fact that Don Diego de la Vega was gone. _Forever._

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Alejandro and Victoria sat slumped together on a bench outside of the cabin, while two of Mendoza's lancers prepared Diego's body for the ride home. Don Alejandro was grateful that the soldiers had taken a few minutes to construct a travois, at Mendoza's instructions. He didn't think he could have stood to see his son's body draped over a horse's back like so many bodies were transported. Obviously, Mendoza felt the same about his friend.

"Don Alejandro, Senorita Escalante," Mendoza knelt in front of them and spoke softly. "I think we're ready to leave. We'll be going past the field where the battle was. Some of my men are still there. So are the banditos' horses. You can ride a couple of them the rest of the way home. You'll have to ride double with some of my men until we get there, though."

"Gracias, Sergeant." Alejandro's voice was flat, emotionless. When he looked up to meet Mendoza's eyes, though, his lips tightened and his expression hardened.

"Mendoza, Diego died because Ignacio de Soto hired a bunch of known killers to hunt down Zorro, and he gave them free rein to do whatever they wanted to do to get the information they needed. When we get back to Los Angeles, I'm calling him out."

The sergeant frowned, and stood up. "I knew the Alcalde had hired some bounty hunters to search for Zorro, but I didn't know their names until yesterday, when we found out you were missing. Don Alejandro, believe me, the alcalde did NOT know these men were wanted killers. He wasn't in Los Angeles yet when they were terrorizing the pueblo six years ago. He truly thought they were legitimate bounty hunters. As soon as I told him what kind of men they were, and he realized that he had put your lives into such danger, he ordered out search patrols. We've been hunting for you nonstop since then."

"That doesn't change the fact that ultimately, he's the one responsible for Diego's death." Mendoza had never heard Don Alejandro de la Vega's voice so full of hatred for _anyone_ before. "I'm going to kill him."

"Uh, Don Alejandro, I'm afraid you can't…."

"**Don't try to stop me, Sergeant!" **Alejandro's eyes were flashing and his fists were clenched so tightly his nails were almost cutting into his palms.

"That's not what I meant, Senor!"

Mendoza stood at attention and took a deep breath before continuing. "The alcalde was leading the patrol this morning when we met the Ramiro gang. He was caught in the crossfire during the fight. Don Alejandro, Alcalde de Soto is already dead. That is why we have to detour past the battle site. By now, the soldiers who remained there will have the banditos' bodies buried, and the alcalde's body ready to take home."

Mendoza reached out and gripped Don Alejandro's shoulder. "The alcalde wanted Zorro captured or dead, Senor, and he would have done _almost_ anything to accomplish that. But I saw the look on his face when he found out what kind of men he'd hired to do that job. He had no idea they were the kind of men who enjoy inflicting pain for fun, or that they already had a personal grudge against your family.

"No matter how guilty he was of starting this, he did not expect or want it to end in Diego's death. And he died trying to prevent that outcome."

Don Alejandro's eyes had widened at the news that the alcalde was dead. He stood quietly, staring at Mendoza for several seconds as the hatred in his expression gradually calmed to a profound sadness. He bowed his head, nodded slightly, then turned on his heel and headed for the horses. Victoria, seemingly in shock, tears again streaming down her face, followed with Mendoza's arm supporting her. _Surely she isn't crying for the alcalde, now! _

The ride home was long and slow. Due to the bodies being transported, they had to travel at a walk for the entire trip. Mendoza suggested that he, Don Alejandro, Senorita Victoria, and a couple of the lancers ride on ahead, but both Alejandro and Victoria refused to leave Diego.

The ride was also extremely quiet. Victoria hadn't spoken a word for over three hours. Alejandro was worried about her. She seemed to be in a daze, which was understandable, but there was something else going on, too. She kept looking at him very strangely. Two or three times she acted as if she was going to say something to him, but stopped herself.

"Victoria, are you ok? If you want, we can ask Sergeant Mendoza to stop for a break."

"No, Don Alejandro. Thank you, but I just want to get home. I…I just can't believe…." She pulled her mount to a stop, facing Diego's father. "I've been thinking about Diego, and how little attention I really paid to him over the years. He's…he was…always there for me whenever I needed a friend. Any time I had something bothering me, I'd turn around, and he'd be there, noticing, ready to talk or just to listen. He never made any advances to me. Dios! He'd rarely even look me in the face for more than a few seconds at a time. I teased him all the time about being so timid and shy. I knew he was attracted to me, but I never realized how much, and I see now how difficult it must have been for him to….

"He loved me so much more than I realized, Don Alejandro. He was always doing something for me, always watching over me, and I never even thought twice about it. He was just…Diego. Now that I know…." She stopped, her shoulders drooping, her whole face haunted as she peered at Don Alejandro.

"Zorro…Zorro always told me he was afraid to let me see his face, and not just because of the danger involved in knowing his identity. Can you imagine Zorro admitting to being afraid of _anything?_ He always said he was afraid I was so in love with the masked hero that I'd never be able to love the ordinary man behind the mask.

"I laughed at him for being afraid, Don Alejandro. I told him I'd love him, whoever he was behind that mask.

"You know, Zorro once told me I should marry someone else: 'someone safe, like Diego'. I laughed at that idea, too. I understand, now, why he was so afraid.

"I was so in love with Zorro, the brave, dashing, romantic hero, that I never let myself even consider Diego as a potential suitor, even though I knew he would have jumped at the chance if I'd given him the slightest hope of success."

Don Alejandro suddenly realized that the lancers' horses were disappearing around a bend in the road. He reached over and squeezed Victoria's hand, then waved for her to ride on. They kicked their horses into a canter for a minute until they caught up with the soldiers. Alejandro used this time to consider his reply.

When they had caught up to the others and pulled their horses back to a walk, Alejandro spoke.

"Victoria, I think there are very _few_ men who would ever have the courage to attempt to win Zorro's sweetheart away from him. I certainly can't picture Diego doing it. As for Zorro's _own_ fears…."

Don Alejandro let a small, wry hint of a smile cross his features. "I'm afraid we're all guilty of thinking of Zorro as somewhat more than human. I don't believe anyone _else _would ever describe the man who wears Zorro's mask as 'ordinary', but if I were Zorro, well….

"A man in love can usually recognize a rival for his beloved's affection, even if no one else notices. You've known Diego all your life. Zorro is aware of that, and aware that you and Diego are…." He paused, swallowed, and corrected himself, "were…close friends for most of that time. I suspect he has spent a _lot_ of hours, and probably had a lot of nightmares, too, about telling you who he is behind that mask, and having you react to him the same way he saw you reacting to his 'ordinary' rival.

"As much as I would have loved having you as a daughter-in-law, Victoria, I can admit that if I had thought you had to make a choice between Diego and El Zorro, I would not have bet on my son's chances at winning your heart."

_O Dios! I guess that wasn't the right thing to say. She's crying again! She must be absolutely devastated by Diego's death. Oh, Son, if only you had let her know how you felt about her._

_Mierda! She's giving me that look again. I wish to goodness I knew what it meant!_

"You really had no idea what Diego was doing, did you, Don Alejandro?"

"Doing? Doing with WHAT?" Alejandro shoved his hand through his hair in frustration, leaving it sticking out in all directions. "Victoria, this is the second time you've insinuated that Diego was doing something I know nothing about. I know that, before he died, there was something bothering him. He was afraid of something he might have said when he was feverish. He tried to apologize for _lying_ to me about it, but he never said what it was! I have a lot of trouble believing my son was lying to me about anything…well, obviously, he never told me he was in love with you…but surely that's not what he was talking about. Would you _please_ tell me what is going on? Obviously, you know more about it than I do!"

He watched Victoria bite her lip, look down, then back up at him. She glanced ahead for a second, straightened in her saddle, then turned back to him.

"I hope you'll understand everything before the evening is over, Don Alejandro. If it helps at all, I didn't know either. And I still don't know it all. Right now, though, I think we have a more pressing problem." She pointed ahead to the upcoming curve in the road. "We're almost back to the hacienda."

_O Dios! Felipe! Santa Maria, Madre de Dios, please help me._

As the road curved around the outcropping of rocks that had hidden the hacienda from view, Alejandro saw a slender figure dart out the gate, running full speed toward them. He took a deep breath, crossed himself, kicked his horse into a canter and rode to meet his adopted grandson. As they drew closer together, he could see Felipe's anxiety as he looked past Don Alejandro, searching for his father's figure on one of the horses, flinching as he saw the body of the alcalde draped over one of them, then paling at the sight of the travois with another blanket-wrapped body on it.

Alejandro reined his horse to a stop and stiffly dismounted. Still holding the horse's reins in one hand, he continued to walk toward Felipe. Felipe skidded to a stop, his eyes widening and his face going dead white as he took in Don Alejandro's bleak, tear-streaked countenance. Alejandro dropped the reins, and reached out trembling hands to take Felipe by the shoulders and draw him into a hug, but Felipe backed away, shaking his head.

As Alejandro reached for him again, Felipe's stricken gaze turned toward him, and he almost fell into his grandfather's arms. Alejandro listened to the young man's heartbroken sobs, then froze as he realized he was hearing something else along with the sobs.

"**NOOOOOOOO!"**


	10. Chapter 10

**WARNING: **This chapter had **me** crying, and I was the one writing it!

**Chapter 10**

It was nearly 10 P.M., but no one at Hacienda de la Vega had retired for the night. As he stood by the window of the sala, staring into the darkness, Don Alejandro saw groups of vaqueros scattered about the grounds talking, smoking, still in shock at the tragedy that had overtaken their patron's family.

Alejandro turned away from the window with a sigh, and forced his thoughts to the people in the room. He _had_ to make himself think about something other than the fact that Diego was dead, or he was going to go crazy.

He had insisted that Victoria spend the night in one of their guest rooms. _Victoria has **always** seemed like family to me, ever since her parents were killed and she was left on her own to run the tavern at such a young age. What was she, fifteen at the time? She's been like the daughter I never had. Now, knowing that Diego loved her and would have liked nothing more than to actually **make** her my daughter by marriage…I just pray she'll always be willing to stay a part of our family. _He peeked from the corner of his eye at the young woman slumped in Diego's favorite chair, staring at nothing.

_And Felipe!_ He turned his sorrowful gaze toward his grandson. Felipe was sitting on the floor in the corner of the room. His knees were drawn up in front of him, his arms curled around them, and his face was hidden in his arms. His shoulders were shaking, and Alejandro knew he was crying again, as he had done on and off all evening.

_He's shut us all out. He's withdrawing into himself like he did when he first came here. Dios mio, he's gone through so much in his short life, and he's come so far. Por favor, Dios, don't let this undo all of the progress he's made. _

_**But he spoke!** I heard him! There was no mistaking that. If anything good can come out of this nightmare, Dear God, please let Felipe have his voice back._

Alejandro hesitantly walked over to where Felipe sat huddled in his corner, and stiffly lowered himself onto the floor beside the boy. _I shouldn't think of him as a boy any more. He's eighteen, almost a man. Despite everything, I have to remember that he's **not** that frightened little boy Diego found alone on the battlefield with his parents dead beside him. I've got to make him remember that he's **not alone** this time. _

Felipe slowly raised his head when he felt Don Alejandro's hand on his shoulder. He glanced at his grandfather, then turned his head away. Alejandro reached out gently and turned Felipe's face back toward him, so the boy could read his lips as he spoke to him.

"Felipe, look at me, hijo. I need to talk to you."

Felipe looked away again. He took a deep breath, still looking toward the wall on the other side of the room.

"I…I don' need to look. I…."

He took another deep breath before continuing. His voice was hesitant, scratchy, barely more than a whisper, _but he was speaking! _"I can hear you jus' fine." He squirmed as he changed position, turning his head back to face his grandfather. He stared nervously at Alejandro for a moment before his eyes fell. "I…I…been able to hear for…for…a long time now."

Don Alejandro's mouth fell open. _He can hear! Felipe can hear! Gloria a Dios! He can hear again! And he's talking, too!_

_Wait a minute. _"What do you mean you've been able to hear 'for a long time'? How long? **Why didn't you tell us?**"

Felipe looked down at the floor again. His reply was so soft Alejandro could barely make it out. "I've been able to hear since befo' Father got home fro' Spain. Diego…my father knew. It was our…our se-secret."

Alejandro hadn't believed he could feel any more hurt than he already felt that day, but he was wrong. "**WHY?** Felipe, why would either of you want to keep this from me?" Once again, tears were streaming down his face.

Felipe fidgeted some more, then sighed. "At firs'…I was afraid. I was afrai' you wouldn' want me to stay here if you knew I c…could hear." He finally met Don Alejandro's eyes again, blushing a little through his own tears. "I…I'm sor…sorry. Diego made me see I was wrong abou' that. I was jus'…jus' scared."

Alejandro thought back to the time right after Diego had brought Felipe home with him. The nearly catatonic seven-year-old hadn't let anyone but Diego near him for days. Even months after his arrival, he would still run and hide when strangers came to the hacienda, especially soldiers. He had been so terrified they might be coming to drag him away from the only security he now had.

Alejandro drew Felipe into his arms as if he were still that young child. His voice was shaking as he tried to pull his thoughts together. "I can't believe you thought we would do that to you, Felipe. Yet, I think I understand. At least, about that.

"But why later? When Diego got home, and found out, why didn't you tell me then?" _Is this the lie Diego was apologizing for? Why wouldn't he have wanted me to know Felipe could hear? _

Suddenly he felt Victoria's hand on his knee, as she came and knelt in front of them. "I think I may know the answer to that, Don Alejandro." She let go of Alejandro's knee and gently put her hand on Felipe's shoulder.

"You were helping him, weren't you Felipe? You were helping him the whole time, from the very beginning."

Alejandro felt his grandson stiffen in surprise, and heard his swift intake of breath. Felipe's eyes were huge. _He's staring at Victoria like she just grew an extra head! Of course Felipe helped Diego…with anything and everything. They were inseparable. _

Alejandro watched Felipe's eyes dart back and forth between Victoria and himself. _He's afraid. That's the same look Diego was giving me when he thought he had said something he didn't want me to know while he was delirious._

Alejandro's attention was drawn back to Victoria as she continued speaking. Tears were rolling down her face again, too. _Dios, I don't think any of us will ever be able to cry again after all of this is over!_

"It's ok, Felipe. I know."

_Know WHAT!_

"Diego was delirious last night. He kept mumbling about leaving roses on my pillow. It didn't take so much to finally put two and two together."

The pathetic smile Victoria gave Felipe as she spoke was bad enough. The regret and anguish in her voice was so strong it left Alejandro speechless. _What is it about those damned roses?_

Felipe's reaction to Victoria's puzzling statement, and the conversation that followed, left his head spinning. Felipe all but dove into Victoria's arms, his sobs suddenly so uncontrolled they were hysterical. His whole body was trembling as he finally gave in to the full grief he'd been trying to hold in all evening. He was saying something to Victoria, but it was several minutes before Alejandro could make sense out of any part of their conversation.

"It's** not fair**! Not now! Not like this! He…he's waited…so long. Both of you have. He…."

_Both of them?_

"Shhh. There's nothing we can do to change this, Felipe. We…we always knew this could happen. I'm sure you and…Diego…talked about the possibility, too, didn't you?"

"We…he…always knew he could die any time. He…made sure I realized that he was…was ok with that, if it happened. But…this is different. It…wasn't supposed to….He never even had a…a chance to fight."

_Diego thought about dying? Why? _Alejandro opened his mouth to interrupt Felipe's torrent of words, then just as suddenly, closed it again. _Maybe this will start to make more sense if I just shut up and let them talk. They both seem to know something I don't. If they won't tell me, maybe they'll tell each other!_

Felipe choked back another sob. His face, when he looked up, brought more memories back to Alejandro of the traumatized child of so many years before. "He…he didn't even get to hear me talk, Victoria! Well…one word…one time, but...I…" His face crumpled as Victoria hugged him more tightly. "He…he gave _so much_ of his life…to ev'ryone…else, and he had _no…nothing _for himself. Next month would ha' been his birth…day. I was…prac…ticing. I…I wanted to…to sur…prise…him."

By now, all three of them were crying again. Alejandro ruffled Felipe's hair, then just let his hand rest against the boy's cheek.

"He can hear you right now, Felipe. I'm certain of it."

The three of them clung together for a few minutes, then Victoria stood up. She stretched a hand down to Felipe and pulled him up, then they both assisted Don Alejandro to his feet.

_I'm still confused. And more than a little scared. I'm beginning to think that whatever this big secret of Diego's was, I might be better off if I never find out about it. If I didn't know better, I'd think…no, that's ridiculous. Isn't it?_

Once again, Victoria's voice caught Don Alejandro's attention.

"Felipe, before he died, Diego told me he'd left some letters…one for me and one for his father, to be given to us in case of his death. He said you would know when to give them to us." Alejandro saw both Felipe and Victoria glance over toward him, then back at each other.

"I think it's time. Don't you? I think Don Alejandro needs to know just how special Diego was…to all of us, whether we knew it or not."

Felipe nodded, shuddered slightly, and excused himself. Within just a couple of minutes he was back. Alejandro could see two slightly yellowed envelopes in his hand. Felipe knelt in front of his grandfather, who was now seated on the sofa beside Victoria.

"For six years…ever since he first wrote them, I've gone to bed every night with a prayer that I'd never have to give these letters to the two of you. I think I've had more nightmares about this than I did about my parents' deaths. The first part of my childhood ended when my parents were killed. The rest ended when this charade began. But I want you to know that I mean this with all of my heart. I will never in my life be prouder of anything than I am of what Diego has accomplished here; and I will never be prouder of anything _I_ ever do than having been able to help him with it.

"None of my nightmares, though, ever centered around the possibility of something happening to Diego himself. I…I don't think he really considered that possibility when he wrote the letters, either. We always expected…well…here, just read. I know you'll have questions. I…I think Diego and I discussed the answers to most of them at one time or another."

Felipe handed them the letters, then went to the table and poured two glasses of wine from the decanter that was sitting there. When he came back to the sofa, Victoria was already reading her letter, wiping the tears from her eyes as she read. Felipe handed the first glass to her.

Alejandro was still sitting there, staring at his unopened envelope. _Diego wrote me a letter only to be delivered in case of his death? My quiet, book-loving son has spent the last six years of his life **expecting to die**? He let Felipe spend six years having nightmares about ways that could happen? Yet Felipe obviously doesn't resent him for this!_

He felt Felipe shove a glass of wine into his hand. He sat the wine down on the end table beside the sofa, sat up straighter, and opened the letter. He blinked back more tears as Diego's unmistakably precise, exquisite handwriting came into view.

"**Dear Father,**

**If you are reading this letter, then something has happened that has taken me from you. Either I am dead, or missing, and Felipe has reason to presume I am dead, or Zorro has been captured and unmasked, in which case you are understandably confused and in shock, and more than likely very angry at me. I am so sorry you have to find out my secret this way, Father. **

_O Dios! NO! _

**I am Zorro.**

The paper slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor. He felt rather than saw Felipe place the wine glass back in his hand and guide it to his mouth.

_This is impossible! It can't be happening! Diego couldn't possibly…._

Memories, both recent and long-forgotten, cascaded through Alejandro de la Vega's mind in a jumble.

_Diego, lying in bed with a bad concussion, explaining that he'd fallen from Alejandro's 20-year-old mare._

_Zorro, at the same time, believed to be dead after falling into Canyon del Diablo when a ricocheting bullet spooked his stallion._

_Diego, as a child, along with Victoria's brothers, Francisco and Ramon, being chewed out by both fathers for reckless horseback riding. They'd been caught jumping Canyon del Diablo on half-broken colts._

_Diego, who took to his bed at the slightest sign of a headache or fever._

_Zorro's legendary battles with lancers and banditos, bound to have left him with a plethora of bruises, scrapes, cracked ribs, even an occasional bullet wound or saber cut._

_Various scars he'd noticed on Diego's body while he and Victoria were caring for him in that cabin…scars that didn't fit with Diego's supposedly retiring, peaceful lifestyle._

_A snakebite scar that had no explanation, but had to have made Diego ill enough to keep him legitimately in bed for a day or two._

_Zorro's all too frequent rides against injustice, usually into the wee hours of the morning._

_Diego, babbling about books and experiments keeping him occupied until dawn, rarely out of bed before noon unless prodded by his father._

_Diego, hiding his love for Victoria for all those years._

_Zorro and Victoria, whose relationship was the most legendary romance in all of California. _

"_You…you saw what…what I…let you see…, Father."_

"_That one is about as weak and flabby as a blade of Toledo steel!...I can't think of one who ever withstood the type of beating your son received without at least once begging us to stop…."_

"_So…tired…too much fighting…too long…."_

"_Don't…like…to fight. Never…wanted…."_

"_Sick of Zorro….Wish I'd never heard of Zorro."_

Don Alejandro de la Vega stared blankly at Felipe, as Felipe reached down and picked the letter up off of the floor, placing it gently back into his grandfather's hand. Alejandro slowly focused onto Felipe, searching the boy's face for something that would tell him this was not real, but knowing in his heart that it was the truth.

"It's true, Grandfather." The grief and the pride mingled on Felipe's face. "He wanted so badly for you to know, but it was just too dangerous…for you, and for him, too."

"Go ahead and read the rest. When you're done, I'll be waiting to answer your questions. But for now, just read. Please."

Alejandro had to wipe eyes that were blurred from his tears before he could continue the letter. He had to read that same line at least five times before he could get past it.

**"I am Zorro."**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The small knoll just to the east of Hacienda de la Vega was shaded at the top by a single huge maple tree. Beneath the shade of that tree stood four tombstones: those of Don Alejandro's parents, his wife Elena, and the unnamed baby daughter who had died within an hour of her birth, followed just a few minutes later by her mother. Now there was a fifth grave, newly dug, holding a simple wooden coffin…and Don Alejandro de la Vega's heart.

He stood tall and straight beside the open grave, determined not to lose his composure...not now, with half the pueblo watching him. His left arm was around Felipe's shoulders, and Felipe's right arm was around his grandfather's waist. In all honesty, Alejandro wasn't quite sure who was supporting whom. His right hand was grasping Victoria Escalante's left one, and he could feel the emerald ring she now wore openly on her third finger, at his insistence…Elena's ring…the one he'd thought lost for over a year. All that time, it had been on a ribbon around Victoria's neck, hidden from sight, the symbol of a love, a promise and a hope that now would never be fulfilled.

Alejandro had heard a couple of whispered comments from people standing behind them. They wondered why Victoria was standing with Alejandro and Felipe, like a member of the family. Of course, by now most of the pueblo knew the basics of the story: that Don Alejandro, Don Diego, and Victoria had been kidnapped in an attempt to get information on Zorro from Alejandro or Victoria. So most of their neighbors and friends accepted Alejandro's decision to have Victoria stand with the family. There were a few people, though, who obviously thought she was usurping a more privileged position than "someone of her class" should expect to receive, regardless of the circumstances surrounding her presence at Diego's death.

_Oh, well._

There were slightly more than 700 people living in and around El Pueblo de la Senora de la Reina de Los Angeles. There had to be at least half of them gathered around Diego's gravesite. Many of them had stood outside the small mission church during the funeral mass, and had walked behind the wagon carrying Diego's coffin all the way from the pueblo to the family cemetery behind the hacienda…nearly three miles. Others had simply gone straight to the cemetery plot, and were waiting solemnly and patiently when the funeral procession arrived.

_So many people. Diego would be embarrassed by such a display just for him, if he could see it. Oh, Son, how I wish you were here **to **see it. _

Just then Padre Benitez came forward to begin the graveside service. Alejandro pulled Felipe a little closer to his side, and felt Victoria tremble as her hand gripped his just a little tighter. The padre began to speak.

"I first met Don Diego de la Vega in Spain. We wrote back and forth after he returned to California, until I came to Los Angeles as your new priest two years ago. I knew Diego as a young man with a brilliant mind…a true scholar.

"From the time I first arrived in this pueblo, Diego went out of his way to make me welcome. We were friends, and I will miss our discussions of science, philosophy, the arts….

"I've watched the way Diego interacted with people, and the ways people interacted with him, too. I think it's safe to say that Diego de la Vega was a man many of us took for granted. He was a quiet man. He always seemed a little shy. He was modest to a fault.

"I've heard a lot of jokes over the past two years about Diego's habits: his fascination with books, his poetry, his lack of interest in "more manly arts". Yet has anyone else noticed how many of those jokes began from something Diego himself said? He never seemed to appreciate his own abilities. In fact, he was often the first person to make light of something he'd accomplished, or to make fun of his "lazy" lifestyle.

"But Diego de la Vega was far from lazy. He spent many hours each week writing and publishing the _Los Angeles Guardian_. He came to the mission school faithfully twice a week, and spent at least half a day there teaching science and arithmetic to the more advanced students. He would read to the younger children, and when Diego read a poem, or discussed an essay, it never failed to become real to the students. He awakened a love for learning in every child he taught."

Padre Benitez turned to Don Alejandro and spoke directly to him. "If Diego had remained at the university until he had graduated, I don't doubt he could have gone on to teach there himself. He had a love of knowledge, and a love for sharing knowledge, beyond anyone I have ever known. He once told me that of anything he had ever done, the accomplishment that made him the proudest was watching a child's interest in learning be kindled by something he had been able to say or show to that child."

Don Alejandro could barely see the padre through the tears he kept trying to blink back. He felt Felipe's shoulders shaking, and knew his grandson, like him, was remembering the hundreds of hours Diego had spent teaching a small deaf boy how to read and write, and how to use signs to communicate in a world full of people who could both hear and speak, and who thought that because he couldn't do either, he had to be too stupid to learn anything else, too.

Alejandro pulled his thoughts back to the words the padre was speaking.

"Diego was a very special person. I realized a long time ago that there was more to him than he let most people see." The padre's face grew even more somber, and he looked around at the crowd of people in front of him. "In fact, he often went out of his way to work in the background, without drawing any attention to the things he did for people.

"Because of that, I've asked a few of those people to step forward this afternoon to share their memories of Diego."

The first person to move up beside the padre was Sergeant Mendoza. He made no effort to hide the tears running down his face as he spoke about his friend.

"Don Diego was my friend. Do you know what that really means? Think about it. He was a _caballero_. I am just a simple soldier…a peasant. I have no real education. I can barely read and write. Yet, Diego never treated me like a "simple soldier". He always made it seem like _he_ was the one being honored by _my_ friendship.

"He…he never laughed at me when I said something stupid because I didn't understand the fancy words he was using. Well, at least if he laughed, it was never in a mean way. He would always take time to explain what he had thought was so funny, and why. Then he would explain what he had really meant. Then we would both have a good laugh about it, together. Padre Benitez was right. Diego was a natural born teacher."

Mendoza looked at Don Alejandro as he spoke the next words. "I am a better soldier, and a better man, because of the things Diego taught me. He made me _think_ about things I never bothered to think about before. He once told me, 'As a soldier, you cannot stand and fight for the things you believe in, if you don't _know_ what you believe, and _why_ you believe it.' He made me think about those kinds of things."

The sergeant's mouth twitched into a hint of a wistful, ironic smile. "I thought that was a strange thing for someone like Diego to say. After all, I mean, well…I have trouble picturing Diego ever being _in_ a fight like that!"

Alejandro's mind wandered back over twenty-five years, remembering a day he had broken up a knock down, drag out brawl between Diego and three other caballeros' sons at a fiesta. The other three boys were all older and bigger than Diego, and seven year old Diego was rapidly losing the battle when his father heard the commotion and came running around the corner of the building to see what was going on. Diego was on the ground, two of the older boys holding him down while the other left him with one of the biggest shiners Alejandro had ever seen.

But the three older boys hadn't gotten away unscathed. Two of them sported black eyes almost as big as Diego's, and the third had a bloody nose.

After Alejandro had broken up the fight and escorted the older boys to their respective parents, he went back around the building to find Diego again. The boy was sitting on the ground with a scrawny, wild-looking calico cat in his lap. He was petting the cat, and gently removing a huge number of burs from its coat.

"_They were being mean to her, Papa. They rolled her over and over in a big pile of burs. They said they were doing an ex-experiment to find out how many burs could a cat get in its fur at one time. I had to stop them, Papa! They were hurting her! And that's not a **real** experiment either!"_

_I wonder which he was more upset about that day: the burs in the cat's fur, or the other boys' idea of what an experiment was._

Alejandro brought his mind back to the present as Sergeant Mendoza stepped back into the crowd. A peasant woman, probably about 45 years old, came forward next. Alejandro recognized her only as one of the vendors who frequented the weekly market in the plaza. He thought she sold lace.

"When my husband died three years ago, I didn't know what I would do. Don Diego came to see me one day about a week after Tomas died. He was such a nice young man. He gave me ten pesos and offered to drive me into the plaza and back so I could get anything we needed that day.

"He also asked about Tomasito. Tomasito was eight at the time, and had been going to the mission school for a couple of years. I told Diego that Tomasito would not be going back to the classes. I needed him to help on the farm.

"Don Diego sat there for a minute. He told me he knew Tomas really liked his classes, and didn't really want to be a farmer. He talked the padre into offering Tomasito a job. Tomasito would be able to stay in school, and would be earning a peso a week for helping the priest around the mission.

"Then he motioned to a lace doily I had sitting on the table, and asked if I had made it. He went on to ask me several questions, then asked if I'd ever considered selling lace at the plaza market. I hadn't, before then. But the pesos I've earned since then from my lace, added to the peso Tomasito gets every week, has been enough for us to live on. And he's still gotten to go to school like he wanted.

Tomasito overheard two of the padres at the mission one day just a few months ago. One of them spoke Tomasito's name and he listened to see what they were talking about.

"The padre hadn't needed, or even _wanted_ a helper when he offered Tomasito that job. Don Diego had given the padre a bag of pesos, and told him to use them for Tomasito's pay for as long as they lasted, then to come to him for more.

"Today, because of Don Diego, Tomasito can read and write and do arithmetic. He has been working in the mission vineyard and wants to gradually switch our property from ordinary farm land into a vineyard, and eventually have our own winery. He has already planted a few grape vines on our property. Next month he will officially be apprenticed to the padre in charge of the mission's vineyard. He is happy and excited about his future. All thanks to Don Diego's generosity.

One after one the people came forward.

An old farmer told how Diego had helped him locate a good spot to dig a well, and then came back to show him how he could use some of the water from that well to water his fields. As a result, he'd seen a drastic improvement in his crops, and thus also in his income.

A young mother told how she had sent for the doctor one day when her baby was desperately ill. But Dr. Hernandez was out of town. Diego had been in the tavern and overheard the conversation between Senorita Victoria and the distraught father of the baby. He interrupted them and asked a few questions. Then he left the tavern leaving his uneaten meal behind. He paused only long enough to tell the peasant to wait for Dr. Hernandez to return. In the meantime, he'd go to their house and see if there was anything he could do to help. By the time Dr. Hernandez could be located and sent to the young farm family, Felipe had appeared with some kind of medicine Diego had picked up in Spain, and administered it to the child. Within and hour of the doctor's arrival, the child's congestion had broken and her temperature was already coming down.

Another half dozen people spoke before Padre Benitez held up his hand to stop anyone else from stepping out. "Those are just a small number of people whose liveshave been changed by the actions of the quiet, unassuming man we all took for granted. But there are more.

"Except for Diego's family, I would like for everyone here to sit down on the ground for just a moment." He waited quietly until they had done so. "I would like everyone here to just sit for a moment and remember Don Diego de la Vega. Ask yourself what he ever did _for you._" He waited again.

"Now, if you can think of something Don Diego did that had a _major _effect on your life, please stand up. But please, I only want you to stand if Diego's act was something that drastically changed your life for the better in some way. "Little things" don't count for this."

The padre motioned to Don Alejandro, Victoria , and Felipe to come stand beside him. As they turned back around to face all of the people, Don Alejandro's legs almost gave out, and all three of them broke down and just stood there, tears running down their faces. Out of over 300 people, there were less than a dozen still seated on the ground.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

It took several minutes for Alejandro to compose himself enough that he could speak. He was far past the point of worrying about keeping his dignity intact by that time.

_Oh, my son! When I think of how often I belittled the ways you spent your time. How could you have done so much and yet I saw so little? And they don't even know the half of what you did for them, do they? They will, hijo. They will. I promise._

Alejandro took a deep, calming breath and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out except another sob. Felipe placed his hand on his grandfather's shoulder and made a few motions.

"No, Felipe. I want to do this. I _need _to do it. For Diego. I owe this to him." He looked out over the crowd of mourners, all of whom thought they now knew how much Diego had done for the people of Los Angeles. But none of them really knew anything, did they?

"A week ago I would have said that I knew Diego better than I know anyone else in the world; and I would have said that no one knew my son better than I. Now I realize that I never really knew Diego at all. In fact, I think I can safely say that Felipe, here, is the only person in the whole world who truly knew him…all of him, and not just the parts of his personality that he let us see.

"These last few days have been a living nightmare that I'll see in my dreams for the rest of my life." Alejandro could hear his own voice quivering, and consciously fought the desire to break down and just give in to the grief that filled his heart.

_Be strong, Alejandro, like Diego was. You **have** to get through this. Diego deserves to be remembered for **all** he did, not just for part of it._

"I watched my son literally being beaten to death, by men determined to get information from Victoria and me that we couldn't have given if we'd wanted to, because we didn't have it. I know now, that of the three of us, the only one who could actually have given those men any information about Zorro was Diego himself."

Alejandro watched eyebrows raise throughout the crowd, and whispers go back and forth. "That's right. He could have stopped that torture at any time, but he didn't. He knew that the minute those men thought they had a clue that would lead them to Zorro, all three of us would be dead. He let it continue, and he never told them anything."

Don Alejandro had to stop again for a moment, as the mental picture of Diego dangling from that rope, with the blood dripping off him and puddling on the floor, threatened his composure yet again.

"Later, when we were in the lean-to, Diego was in and out of consciousness for a while. Then, when he was delirious, out of his head from the pain and fever, he was also mumbling a lot of things. Some of them didn't make much sense…at least, not then. But I learned more about my son during that time than I've ever known about him.

"I watched him take a beating that would have had hardened soldiers screaming for mercy, yet he never once begged them to stop. Over and over, in that lean-to, I watched him wake up in a panic, only to see that the fear he showed was never for himself…just for Victoria and me.

"He couldn't even raise his head without becoming violently ill, yet he tried to get up to help look for a way out of that cabin. He begged us to leave him there and get away by ourselves if we could.

Don Alejandro's voice cracked again with his next words. "I once told Diego, to his face, that he was a coward. I was so wrong. I will say this now, in front of you all. My son was the bravest man I have ever been honored to know."

"I…we…Victoria and I both…learned that Diego has been madly in love with her for years, ever since he first came home from Spain. Yet he never made an advance to her, never gave any clue of how he felt. He knew she was in love with El Zorro. It seems that the one thing he truly was terrified of was the possibility of Victoria's rejection of "plain old, boring Diego".

"Padre Benitez was so right when he said that we all, myself included, took Diego for granted. Felipe said it very well to Victoria last night. He said Diego 'gave so much of himself to everyone else, and had nothing for himself.'" Alejandro stopped again for a few seconds before he could continue.

"That didn't make a lot of sense to me at the time. After all, Diego was my son. He could have just about anything he wanted. But Felipe was right.

"I know now that Diego kept so much of himself hidden from all of us. He let us think of him as a coward, a lazy rich man's son, who didn't care about anything except his books and his experiments. He hid his love for Victoria. For six years, the only times my son would actually be himself…his _whole_ self, was when he was alone with Felipe, and there was no one else around. I can't begin to imagine how difficult that must have been.

"But he obviously felt it was worth all of that and more, to do what he was doing. You see, even I had no idea of what he was really doing, until last night, when Felipe gave me a letter Diego had written; a letter only to be given to me in case of his death. Can you imagine that? Diego, of all people, spent the last six years of his life _expecting_ _to die at any time_!"

Don Alejandro exchanged looks with both Victoria and Felipe, drawing each of them closer to him, and squeezing their hands a little tighter. They each nodded to him, and all three stood just a bit taller as they gazed back out at so many of the people Diego had protected for the past six years.

"The letter Diego left for me, and the similar one he left for Senorita Escalante, answered so many of our questions, and explained so many of Diego's actions and inactions ever since he came home from Madrid.

"You see, Diego, my son..." The tears were rolling down Don Alejandro's face again. This time, though, his expression, although still full of grief, was also shining with all of the pride and love Diego had always longed to see on his father's face.

"Don Diego de la Vega…was also…El Zorro."

**The End**


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